My Sunlight, My Angel
by enigma013
Summary: Juliet puts her faith and trust into Carlisle when it comes to the thing that's most precious to her: family.  Carlisle finds himself falling for this bright girl in a dark place with every coming day. CarlislexOC.  Full Summary Inside.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.**_

_**Full Summary: Juliet Young finds herself in a peculiar new place when she puts her faith and trust into Carlisle Cullen when it comes to the thing that's most precious to her: family. Carlisle finds himself falling for this bright girl in a dark place with every coming day. Troubles will find both of them along the path of getting to know one another, testing how far either of them can be pushed before just letting go and falling over the edge. This isn't a fairytale. This is their story. **_

_**Rating: T (This is subject to change in the future.)**_

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><p><em><strong>One<strong>_

"Doctor Cullen," Nurse Marty greeted with a sweet smile as Carlisle entered the Intensive Care Unit, his briefcase in hand. "I didn't realize you'd be here so early. Would you like me to have a coffee made for you?"

"That'd be wonderful, Marty," he said appreciatively, though he knew the coffee would simply go to waste. He had to keep up with the appearance, considering it was three a.m. and most humans around him were running on caffeine. "Have you checked your rotation? I'm in because we have a surgery to prep for in…" he paused, glancing at his watch. It was a necessary action. "Just over two hours. I had also hoped you could get a hold of Doctor Hysie for me. I wanted to consult with him over the patient's heart before we got started."

Marty nodded, her blonde curls bouncing. "Yes, of course." She could hardly suppress her smile. "The senator hasn't slept all night, but he's been wonderful to be around. You should know, his daughter is in with him right now. I left to give them some privacy. His wife's out in the waiting room with the rest of the family."

Carlisle nodded. "Thank you."

She mentioned something about making his coffee as she slipped away on down the hall. He couldn't focus on her words. It was hard enough to block out all the gossip flowing out of the break room. Normally he found it easier to block out the conversations of scandal and adulterous topics. He had no care for them, and it would only add fuel to the fire of Alice's comments on the cliché perceptions of hospital staff, anyway. Edward would no doubt humor her. But the gossip wasn't about who was now sleeping with who. It was about his patient.

"I hear the hospital wants to set up a PR thing," another nurse, Alyssa, said excitedly. "They want to use him and Doctor Carlisle to promote organ donation, since he can reach a wide audience."

"Can you believe the press hasn't stopped calling?" Nurse Lyn said. She was a nurse he didn't quite care for. He could hear the catty smile on her face just by listening. "I wonder if this is _only_ about the surgery. I mean, it's not _that_ big of a deal, is it?"

"He's getting a double lung transplant!" A technician, Andy, said with slight annoyance. "Of course it's a big deal! You've been working here how long, and you haven't realized that these things are life and death?"

There was a stretch of silence. Carlisle was already on his way to room four, where the senator currently resided.

"I have," Lyn said venomously, "but we're not supposed to think about that. But thanks for the reminder."

This time, the silence lasted. Carlisle approached the glass sliding door of room four. A nurse in dark blue scrubs—Trysta—sat at the computer stationed outside the room. She was checking over his vitals. The curtains were pulled shut inside, so he couldn't see within. He could hear, though, and felt ashamed for listening to the conversation. However, this is what had peaked his interest.

"There's no need to cry," the senator said soothingly. Carlisle could hear another heartbeat within; once staccato and quick.

"It's the machines," a girl's voice said back. His daughter. He could hear the effort she was putting in to keep her voice strong. "You know I don't like the machines."

"I know." The senator sounded tired and worried.

His daughter sighed.

"Are you ready for this?"

The girl gave a small laugh. "Are _you?_ You're the one getting the surgery. I'll just be out in the waiting room."

There was a tense pause. "You know what I mean."

"I can handle it," she answered quietly. "You'll be fine. I know it."

"But if I'm not—"

"I don't want to hear it," she cut him off short. "You'll be fine, Dad. And I'll make you proud. I'll be strong, like you asked."

"Your mother is going to have a lot of people relying on her. And your brother…"

"He hates hospitals more than I do. I know. I'll take care of them both. Then after you recover, it'll be your job again." Her joke elicited a light laugh from her father.

"You're stronger than you realize, Julie."

"My strength is your strength, Dad."

Silence. He didn't have to be Jasper to feel the fear and worry emanating from the room. It was always hard to watch patient's families say their goodbyes.

Trysta turned around in her chair, regarding Carlisle with surprise. "I didn't see you there," she said, her eyes returning to the screen. "Marty went to go get his daughter some coffee. She's in with him right now."

Carlisle nodded, knowing more than this. He knocked lightly at the door before entering the room. The blinds were open, showing a dark expanse of the courtyard outside before it reached another skyscraper that glowed with yellow light that was the main hospital. In Forks, he rarely ever had to work the late-shift. He never slept, of course, but it was always strange to be around others at such a time and see them awake as if it were daytime.

The girl sitting in the chair beside her father looked less than fully alert. There were chalky dark circles under her weary eyes; no signs of crying showed through. Dark hair was pulled back into a pony-tail, revealing her face entirely. He'd seen her before, on the news. Not only was she a senator's daughter, but a best-selling writer, herself, and philanthropist. And to think, she was only at the legal drinking age.

Now she stared at Carlisle curiously, her eyes steeled from showing any emotion. She was holding her father's hand like she was a little girl, and to let go of him would be to let go of safety. Carlisle realized that, had positions been switched and it was he and Alice, it was doubtless Alice would do the same. If she hadn't, he would have.

The senator seemed restless. He wore glasses Carlisle didn't recognize and looked as if sleep had eluded him for quite some time as well. Still, there was a kind and open smile on his face. He had high spirits.

"Hello," Carlisle kindly said to the girl, Julie, as he extended his hand to her. "I'm Doctor Cullen."

She shook his hand. If she noticed the iciness of his touch, she didn't show it. "Juliet. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Carlisle smiled at her. It never ceased to amaze him how much fortitude a human so young could have in times like these. He'd seen older men and women in tears by now, and yet she held strong. His eyes quickly returned to the senator.

"I hear it was a sleepless night, senator."

The senator waved an unconcerned hand. "I already told you, call me Robert." There was a glint of good-natured mischief as the senator looked at his daughter. "You'd think a surgeon would have good hearing, would you, Jules?"

Juliet rolled her eyes and gave Carlisle an apologetic smile. "My father is probably the most humble politician you'll ever meet. He still doesn't understand why the press is all over this or why anyone would _dare_ call him by his first name. But really, he gets sick of hearing 'Senator Young'."

"As I'm sure you do, by now," the senator—Robert—said.

Juliet shrugged. "It's not a big deal."

Carlisle pulled some papers out of his briefcase a moment later, scanning its contents. "It's after three a.m. now, Senator—Robert," he corrected himself. "We plan to have you in by four. The anesthesiologist should be in shortly."

Robert gave him two thumbs up. Juliet averted her eyes because of the heart monitor attached to her father's index finger and the IV's that were already sticking out of him. She steeled herself. Carlisle pretended not to take notice.

"I just wanted to check up on you," Carlisle said as he returned the papers to the briefcase. "I'll consult with Doctor Hysie in a few, and then I'll be back. I'll leave you two to your privacy."

As he was politely ducking out, he caught Juliet's eyes. There was a flash of emotion in them before she steeled herself again and made herself impervious. He'd seen pleading in her eyes. Before he left the room, he gave her a reassuring nod. He would make sure all went well for her father.

Heading down the hallway once more, he felt terrible about what he just did. He gave her hope when he knew any number of things could go wrong. Somehow, he'd gotten caught up in the need to reassure her.

When he returned several minutes later, he observed the two before entering again. Doctor Hysie had insisted on being present during the surgery, so that was settled. Now he watched as the senator rested his eyes, his hand still in his daughter's. His wife and son sat in two other chairs placed around the room. All eyes were on the patient, except Carlisle's was on the patient's daughter.

He knocked once more before coming in. The anesthesiologist was present, standing quietly in the back of the room. Everything was ready. As they wheeled the senator out, Carlisle felt uneasy for the first time in a _very_ long time.

Juliet watched her father go. When he looked over his shoulder, she gave him a smile. _Everything will be all right_, it said. He returned the smile. After he was out of sight, her eyes lingered on Doctor Cullen. Today, he would be her angel.

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><p><strong>Please give a review to give me your thoughts. Shall this continue, or should it be scrapped? Let me know! (Oh, and welcome to <em>my<em> world of Twilight. I do hope to make it very interesting for you guys.)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.**

**A/N: I would just like to note that (in a good way, I think) I don't dive **_**straight**_** into the romance. Anyone reading this from my other stories already knows that. (-; I like to really set up a story. So if you'll stick with me, we'll get this ball rollin'. (-: I always appreciate reviews (I'm not joking here, guys)!**

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><p><em><strong>Two<strong>_

Waiting was exhausting.

The waiting room was a great, open atmosphere. Huge floor-to-ceiling windows lined the far side of the oblong room, showing part of the medical campus's courtyard below and the oyster of misty grey dawn light opening up in the east.

The chairs were plush and comfortable. Juliet had situated herself in one that sat back-to-back with the one her mother sat in, who also sat beside her brother. The rest of the extended family would trickle in as daylight grew. The sleepy light that now filtered through the windows made Juliet yawn and glance down at her third cup of coffee. The nurse, Marty, had been kind enough to replenish her supply each time she drained a cup. Now Juliet resolutely set the cup on the coffee table in front of her. She wasn't much of a caffeine drinker to begin with.

She wasn't sure if she found the silence unsettling or comfortable. What could they possibly fill it with? This day was anything but ordinary. It had been nearly twenty-four hours ago that her father received the call for his transplant—it wasn't something that could be planned.

Juliet swallowed hard, pinched the skin near her wrist, and shut her eyes. It couldn't be planned because someone had to die in order for her father to live. She had known that since she was ten, when she had first stumbled across her father's medical ailment after finding a bill in the mail. He had only been placed on the list months ago from this day, but even back then his doctors had known it was an almost definite likelihood.

This thought always brought a confluence of others upon her. Who was the donor? That was something that wouldn't be answered for years, if at all. How did they die? She wasn't sure she even wanted to know. It seemed like a morbid thing to wonder. So many more questions lingered in the back of her mind. Questions she didn't dare ask answers for. It was hard enough even thinking that, yesterday, a death had occurred to give her father the gift of life. While she and her family sat waiting for good news—dear God, please let it be good news—another family was mourning.

How could she ever repay them for such a thing?

Silently, she sucked in a deep breath and released it. She wasn't going to think of these things now. Not now. She couldn't bear it. Tears were already beginning to prick at her eyes and she couldn't have that.

Checking her cell phone, she found it was six o'clock. Two hours into the twelve hour surgery. What was it Marty had said after they took Dad into surgery? That hearing no news was good news? Yes, that was it. But she would give anything right now to know how her father was doing.

Two hours later, the elevators near the check-in desk dinged, revealing more people Juliet didn't know. At the moment, the check-in desk was empty. It was too early on a weekend for someone to be working it. The waiting room wasn't private, as Juliet had always imagined it to be. There were several other families seated throughout the room, all trapped in a fragile silence no one dared to break. Her heart went out to them. Today was a very trying day.

Her mother shifted in the seat behind her. Juliet turned to her, steeling herself. She found her mother's eyes on the floor, imbued with the kind of fear one could only have when facing the unknown. Juliet's brother, nearly her twin in appearance, sat gazing out the window indifferently. It was his typical demeanor in regards to their father. Indifference.

Raw anger surged through Juliet, and she bit it back, holding in the nasty retort she wanted to say to him. It was very much unlike her, but also very common of her to disagree with her dear brother. How could he be so emotionless when their father could die at anytime? How dare he? Realization dawned on her seconds later as she looked at her reflection in the glass, caught her eyes staring back at her. She saw nothing in them. She, too, put up walls to remain emotionless. She had no right to question her brother.

Instead, she returned her eyes and thoughts to her mother. Her mother always reminded her of a flower; bright, something that made you smile, emanating sweetness. Now, her mother seemed more like a wilted flower than anything else. The cheeriness Juliet had come to know vanished, replaced by a look of misery.

Juliet stood, switching seats so that she sat across from her mother. She rested a hand on her mother's arm, catching the blue eyes that reflected her own. She gave her mother a smile. "Mom," she said in a hush, so as not to disturb other families in their same position. "How are you? Can I get you anything?"

Her mother returned the smile, though hers was thin and tired. "No, sweetie. You've already done so much. And you look exhausted."

"So do you."

The look Juliet received was familiar—that motherly look that said _don't you do that_. Only Juliet now came to notice the dark lines in her mother's face that made her look older. Since when had those been there?

"You should get some rest, Julie. It's going to be a long day."

Juliet returned to her original seat in the pretense of taking a nap. Sleep would not come for her, she knew. It'd been weeks. She would not sleep when her father needed her strong and steady.

An hour later, the elevator dinged again. Only this time, faces Juliet recognized appeared as the doors slid open. _This is it_, she thought to herself grimly. _Let the masquerade begin_.

Immediately she stood to greet her extended family. It had been doubtless that they'd come, considering they were more like immediate family than extended. She hugged her aunts and uncles and cousins, giving them reassuring and bright smiles. She could see the relief spread across their features. They must think: if Julie is okay, then everything must be okay.

Juliet felt a swell of guilt in her stomach. She had never been a great liar. She hated lying at all. Yet it seemed in this time of need, she was a pro.

Hushed conversations struck up, now that everyone was here. They continued to ask: How did he look when he went in? How did he feel? Was he ready for it? What about the doctor?

Questions about the doctor gave Juliet pause. She remembered amber eyes on her after she gave him the pleading look thinking, _please, please let him live. _She prayed for it constantly. Now this doctor, Doctor Cullen, would prove to be her angel or not. That kind smile he had given her lit a flicker of hope inside Juliet. As the hours dragged on without word, which was good, her spirits lifted ever so slightly.

Six hours into the surgery.

_Halfway done. _She smiled a little. Her father would always be the one with the comforting smile and easy jokes. He would be the one telling them, _don't worry, it's halfway done. _She took this job as she went around to her family, making sure everyone had what they needed. It seemed everyone needed a smile.

Going on seven hours into the surgery, half the family got up to make a food-run to the cafeteria in the main hospital. Juliet wasn't hungry. Now she sit across from her brother who was four years her senior. His girlfriend had come to 'support' him—Juliet immediately quelled the bitter thought. The girl was sweet—a cute, petite blonde—but Daniel was chattering on about sports and anything that didn't involve family. As usual.

His girlfriend, Anna, gave Juliet a glance that said _I know_. Juliet clamped her teeth together, realizing she let her mask down for a moment. Though she found it comforting that she wasn't the only one who saw that Daniel had extreme apathy when regarding family, now was not the time to dispute over that.

The elevator stopped at this level again. The loud _ding_ always made Juliet cringe and tore her eyes from whatever she was staring at to the sliding doors with hope that seemed almost ludicrous. Sometimes she thought that, like Anna, her boyfriend would come around. But she often forgot—_ex-_boyfriend.

Instead of seeing her ex, Juliet saw a small pixie girl. She was simply stunning. Short, dark auburn hair, bright eyes that looked like chips of amber, a petite frame filled with grace. Seeing this girl removed any negative thoughts from Juliet's mind for a fraction of a moment. She looked familiar in some strange way.

The girl glided out of the elevator and glanced around the waiting room expectantly. When her eyes met Juliet's, the girl broke out in a small smile. Juliet's face reddened as she glanced away, but her attention immediately returned to the stranger. Now she was gliding away, towards the door that led back into the ICU. Maybe she was visiting a family member.

Eleven hours into the surgery.

_One more hour to go._ There hadn't been any news yet. Surely, this was a good thing. Juliet wanted to stand and pace like several members of her family were doing, but she couldn't. She had to remain strong and composed or she would shatter into something that couldn't be fixed. _He'll be just fine._ She repeated that to herself over and over again as she pinched the skin at her wrist. Then, as she did every hour, she made sure everyone was doing well.

Her mother was in shambles. The light haired woman sat alone on a bench far away from the others, her shoulders drooped, her eyes on the floor. Juliet quietly took a seat beside her.

"Mom," she urged. "Let's go sit with the others. They need us right now."

Her mother said nothing. She only stared unseeingly at the ground. In her mother's hands was her father's wedding ring.

"Mom," she tried again. "He'll be just fine. There's only another hour to go and we haven't heard anything. That's _good_."

Smiling sadly, her mother finally met her eyes. "I know, sweetie. I was just wondering what we'd do without him."

"We won't be without him."

"No, I don't think we ever would be." Her mother brushed dark strands of hair from Juliet's eyes. "I can see part of him that lives on in you."

Just as those words crossed her mother's lips, a door down the stretch of the room opened up. A woman in scrubs walked out, calling "Young family? The Senator's family? If I could have a word?"

A rush of fear surged through Juliet. She stood stiffly, along with her mother, and joined the mass of her family that crowded around the woman. _No no no no no no no no_, Juliet thought, biting her lip hard. _He's fine. Of course he's fine. He has to be_. Dread filled her to brim as silence stretched on while her brother and Anna took their time striding over. Then the woman spoke.

"We couldn't have asked for the surgery to have gone any better," the woman smiled. Juliet wanted to fall to her knees with relief. "Doctor Cullen is finishing up now, but he'll be in shortly to tell you how things went and give you a brief talk on what to expect."

There were murmurs through the room. Other family's stared at them with a mixture of hope and uncertainly as they hugged one another and smiled and grinned and laughed. Juliet took in a deep breath. Finally it felt like she could breathe again.

Her mother no longer looked like a wilted flower. She was bright and beaming, but there was still something sad in her eyes. And Juliet knew what it was.

This wasn't the end. This was only the beginning.

The thought chilled her. But then she remembered the look Doctor Cullen had given her and realized that she really did have an angel.

How could she ever thank him?

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><p><strong>Review? I promise we'll see some more of our favorite doctor in the next chapter… (-: Give me some thoughts! <strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.**

**A/N: As always, I love the reviewers! You make my day. (-: **

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><p><em><strong>Three<strong>_

Juliet didn't have to wait much longer before Doctor Cullen was stepping out of the unmarked door, clad in scrubs. A mask the same color as his blue scrubs was tied around his neck and now hung about it loosely as he strode into the room. It was obvious that he just came from the surgery.

His presence caught the attention of everyone in the waiting room. Juliet's family stood and followed him to another room he beckoned them too, for privacy. It was a small space with two long couches, making for cramped quarters considering the amount of family there was present. They managed to fit just fine, all sitting on the edge of the seat, eagerly awaiting the news. Now that they knew it was good news, any sort of foreboding feeling had left them, replaced by simple giddiness.

Juliet sat in the middle, beside her mother. She stared at Doctor Cullen raptly. Unlike the others in the room, she was still tense. When his eyes shifted to meet hers, she wondered if she looked like a madwoman. He gave her a smile that made her feel relaxed and settled her taut shoulders. She stopped pinching the skin at her wrist.

"Senator Young went through the surgery just fine," he began in a soothing voice. Juliet felt like he was only looking at her, that the words were only meant for her. Was it that obvious how fretful she had been? Then his eyes left hers and scanned the others in the room as he spoke. "Actually, it was outstanding. I've never seen a patient take to the change so well. His heart is accepting the lungs, and his other organs seem to be doing just fine. Of course he'll remain at the hospital until we clear him to leave. I thought there might be some questions."

"Does recovery take very long?" Juliet's mother asked, her voice timid and shaky. Juliet wasn't the only one who'd remained tense. She placed her hand over her mother's.

"It depends on the patient," Doctor Cullen explained. "If all goes as well as the surgery, he could be out of here within a week to recover at home. But if there are some minor problems, nothing that's ever too serious, he could be here for more than a month."

There were nods around the room.

"So he's normal again?" Daniel asked, much to Juliet's surprise. Her brother never seemed to show much interest in their father. "He'll be able to do normal things?"

"I wouldn't say 'normal' exactly," Doctor Cullen said. "There's never truly a full recovery for something like this. He'll be able to do things that he couldn't before, but there will also be many restrictions. He has to take care of his new lungs meticulously."

"Can you tell us anything about the donor?" The question came from one of Juliet's aunts, a woman she secretly despised. They weren't supposed to know anything about the donor. Nothing. At least not yet. Juliet wasn't ready to hear about the person who gave their life for her father's. She pinched the skin at her wrist again, as tight as she could. In her peripherals, she could see everyone else was just as eager for an answer as her aunt was. She closed her eyes and tried to fill her lungs with air.

"All I can tell you is that they were young. It's the donor's family's choice if they want to give you more information or not. It could be weeks or it could be years when they want to get in touch with you."

All Juliet had heard was y_oung_. Juliet's eyes opened. Her vision had faded to black on the edges and seemed to pulsate with her heartbeat. _Young_. Someone young had died yesterday. While everyone in this room was smiling and happy and celebrating, a young person's family was mourning a death. It made her sick. The room began to tilt and the air felt too thick—too, too thick. She stood abruptly and crossed the room, straight past Doctor Cullen, and slipped out the door. Everyone stared after her—she could feel it on her back—but she didn't care about that.

She only made it past two corners before her legs gave out from under her and she was left gripping the wooden side rail that lined every corridor, gasping for breath. Unstoppable tears fell from her eyes. A confluence of different thoughts ran through her head—_How young? 20? Younger? Older? What were they like? What did they do? How did they die?_

Cold hands caught her wrist gently and pulled her upright. Her legs still felt like jelly, so she fell against her savior. Then she caught sight of blue scrubs, blonde hair, and chips of amber eyes and felt worse. She was supposed to be strong. The doctors weren't supposed to see her like this.

Doctor Cullen pulled Juliet against him, keeping her from falling to the ground. He internally reprimanded himself for disclosing the little information about the donor. Maybe, he had thought, knowing that her father got a healthy, new set of lungs would be reassuring. But it was obviously quite the opposite for understandable reasons.

A sob escaped Juliet.

"Let's sit," Doctor Cullen said gently.

Juliet nodded hastily as she pulled away from him and slid down the wall to sit on the cold linoleum. She buried her face in her hands to keep from looking at him.

Doctor Cullen sat down beside her silently. He wasn't sure what compelled him to do it, but he placed his hand on her forearm, trying to comfort her. It was the same odd thing that had made him wordlessly promise her that her father would be all right, when he wanted to reassure her. She was a delicate creature—he could see it just in the way his hand looked on her arm; his icy, impervious hand and her soft, warm skin. He shouldn't touch her like this. He didn't stop.

"I'm so sorry," Juliet managed to say without choking on her words. "I'm not like this—I'm really not."

"You have nothing to be sorry about. I should be apologizing," Doctor Cullen said, his eyes on the floor. "I shouldn't have mentioned anything about the donor. It's common to feel guilt over the life lost in order for another to live. I should have considered that."

She shook her head, still refusing to look at him. "I just—how could I ever repay them? The donor? Their family? How could they possibly be okay with this?"

Doctor Cullen was silent for so long, the only way Juliet knew he was still there was because his hand still rested on her arm. She peeked at it through her fingers.

He finally spoke softly. "The way I look at it, the family will know that part of their loved one still lives on. And your father… he's a great man. When they discover that they gave him this gift, they'll know it'll be put to good use. I think they would find that comforting."

Juliet brushed away the tears on her cheeks and met Doctor Cullen's eyes. She blinked several times, absorbing what he just said. Could it be true? Could they actually find it comforting instead of dreadful and horrifying? "Thank you," she breathed. "But—how can I ever repay _you_, Doctor Cullen?"

He smiled. "You shouldn't feel entitled to owe me anything. And please, call me Carlisle. I'm certain I'll see you again. The surgery is over, but I'll still be your father's main doctor."

"Carlisle." She returned his smile. "I will find some way to do something for you, someday. You gave me my father's life. I would be obliged to give you mine in return." She glanced down the hallway with a frown. "I should get back to them. They'll need me."

Carlisle watched as she gripped the wooden side rail and pulled herself to her feet. She gave him another smile, one that even lit up her bright blue eyes, before she headed down the hallway and disappeared behind a corner. They were grave words coming from her, and he knew she had meant them. She was much stronger than she realized.

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><p>The ICU's waiting room at least had comfortable enough chairs to get a few hours sleep in. Juliet yawned as she woke and stretched. Unfortunately, they were not comfortable enough to avoid the painful feeling of too-stiff muscles.<p>

Anywhere else in the hospital, she would have been sent home. There were visiting hours to abide by, she knew, but when it came to Intensive Care, they're waiting room was always open. For this, she was thankful. She checked her cell phone. It was six a.m.

After leaving Doctor Cullen—Carlisle, she remembered to call him—in the hallway the previous day, she'd had to return to tending to her family. There had been much concern for her reaction about the donor, but there had also been almost a lethargic feel to that concern. No one would understand the way Carlisle had.

The nurse hadn't cleared her to enter her father's room last night. She had informed Juliet that it wouldn't be until morning, at least, when she could see him. She didn't want to leave until she saw him and sent her family back to her apartment in the city. It was morning now. She made her way to the check-in desk to let the nurses know that family was there, waiting. A woman in her mid-fifties sat in the black chair before a computer. There was a sweet smile on her face as Juliet approached, one of welcoming and warmth.

"Can I help you, sweetie?"

Juliet returned her smile. "I was wondering if I could see my father yet," she said. "Robert Young. He got out of surgery last night."

The woman's eyebrows rose. "Ah, you mean the Senator. Can I see your ID?"

This surprised Juliet. There was security placed all around, especially near her father's room, and the hospital made certain to check their foot traffic like they were in the Pentagon. Still, she offered the older woman her ID and waited patiently for it to be returned. She knew the press was pushing anyone—technicians, nurses, janitorial staff—for information on her father's wellbeing. This was just another rationality.

She was pleased that it only took fifteen more minutes until she was stepping through the manually locked door of the ICU and headed to see her father. Though those fifteen minutes had been nail-biting and nerve-wracking, they were over. She could finally see him again when, the last time she saw him, she thought she never would another time. Her stomach twisted into nervous knots.

The ICU was alive even as most would be asleep at this hour. She dared not to peek through the windowed rooms of other patients, but couldn't help catching glances. Most still had tubes affixed to them, running down their throats as if they were comatose. Machines beeped from every direction. Loved ones trickled in and out of rooms; some happy, others tearful. Her ears couldn't help but pick up the wracking sobs from a room she passed as a woman was saying goodbye to a man on life support. Juliet had to pinch the skin at her wrist and suck in a deep breath, like her father would have done. These things happen.

Nurses, upon seeing and recognizing Juliet, began chatting animatedly. She hated this. That feeling like everyone was looking at her, talking about her, exchanging gossip. Especially right now when the attention was supposed to be settled on her father. But it came with the territory, considering she grew up knowing the way reporters worked, seeing her father on television, and now seeing herself and her books out there.

Shutting these distractive thoughts away, she focused ahead of her. Her father's room was in sight. The lights were on and the curtain drawn. She stopped just before it and took a tiny peek inside.

She had to numb herself immediately as she swiftly turned away and stared at a grey cupboard above a pink-clad nurse's head. _Don't let it get to you_, she thought in a confluence. _You knew it was never going to be pretty. It's supposed to be like this._

Then when she heard a deep moan of pain, her composure broke. She was beside her father in a flash. When it dawned on her that he was awake, her heart began to speed up. _No, no, no._ How could he be awake so early? The incisions had to be so terribly painful—the replacement of an _organ_ had to be agonizing. She wanted to be sick. There were so many things sticking out of him, running to machines that hadn't been there before or had been dormant.

Her father's eyelid's fluttered open and closed. He moaned again, mumbling something that was blocked by the tube running into his throat.

Juliet sucked up her strength.

"Dad?" She asked in a whisper. His eyes fluttered again, but this time, she caught those deep brown eyes like her brother's looking at her with a flash of recognition. It made her want to cry. Even in this state, he was himself. He knew who she was.

"Dad," she said again, trying to quell the shakiness of her voice. "Can I put my hand on your arm? Is that okay?"

He gave the smallest nod. Juliet clenched her teeth as she rested her hand on his arm, away from an IV running into the crook of his elbow. She couldn't stand anything of the sort. His skin was warm—hot. Too hot. She worried that he had a fever. Where was the nurse?

"I'm so proud of you," she said, leaning against the bar pulled up on the bed to be closer to him. "Dad, you did amazing. Doctor Cullen said you took to things really well. I've been here the whole time, okay? I love you."

He opened his eyes again and she could see the struggle it took him to keep them open. But he looked right at her and mouthed "_I love you too"_, back. Tears surfaced in her eyes as she smiled down at him.

Suddenly a machine above her head began beeping manically. Her heart started to beat crazily as she looked from her father to the machine to the door. Where was the nurse?

A man in green scrubs rushed in a moment later. When his eyes landed on her, they were angry. "You shouldn't be in here," he said quickly, pushing her out. "Where's security? You," he said to a technician on a computer across the hall. "Get security back here now! And call the doctor back!"

"But—but—"Juliet stammered, at a loss for words. What was happening? Was her father okay?

She slid down the wall—like she had with Carlisle only hours before—and buried her face in her hands. This all seemed like too much. Could she handle it? Could she be strong like her father wanted her to be?

Juliet was terrified.

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><p><strong>AN: There will be more Carlisle to come! I know it's sort of a process, but it'll get there, most definitely. I'm thinking of switching between point of views more predominantly. Good idea? Bad? How was this chapter? I really love to hear from you guys! (-:**


	4. Chapter 4

_**Four**_

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><p>Carlisle had already been in the ICU's main corridor even before his pager went off. Edward always said to never bet against Alice's visions. The thought alone made an apprehensive feeling grow inside him, considering the talk Alice had come to have with him the day before; before the Senator's transplant. The talk about Juliet Young.<p>

He forced himself to focus. Now he walked with haste—not _too_ much haste, though—to the Senator's ICU room. As he did, two security guards rushed past him, their hands on the weapons attached to their belts. This concerned him further.

When he came around a corner to the room, his lips fell into a frown. There she was.

Juliet was sitting on the floor, her back against the wall and her face in her hands. Over everything else going on in the ICU, he could still hear only her. She wasn't crying, like an initial first glance might have suggested. Instead, she was taking deep breaths.

The two security guards were crudely yanking her to her feet not a moment later, making Carlisle feel a swell of raw anger in his chest. She looked appalled between the two officers, taken by surprise by their brusqueness. Inside her father's room, Carlisle heard the manic beeping of a heart monitor machine.

He worked fast.

Juliet spotted him immediately as he approached. Her emotions were always so clear in her eyes—she was scared. But not for herself. In what little amount of time he had gotten to know her, he knew the fear she held was for her father. Her eyes begged for him to ensure that everything was all right. To disregard her for the moment.

Carlisle gave her a quick nod and ducked inside the room. He examined the situation with a scrupulous eye. Several nurses were in the room, now, including the assigned rotation nurse, Jonathan. He turned to Carlisle immediately.

"Doctor Cullen," he sounded out of breath yet mitigated. "We're not exactly sure what happened. That girl—that _reporter—"_he spat the word with a hard glance out at Juliet, "came in here unauthorized. She—"

"That girl," Carlisle said as patiently and with as little force as he could manage, "is not a reporter. She's his daughter and she has been authorized for visitation." His own self control had been tamed centuries ago, so he wasn't surprised to find he hardly sounded agitated at all. For some odd reason—he chose not to think about it—he very much was.

Jonathan blinked. Then his face turned a dark red and his features pinched into an abashed look. "She looked so familiar—"

Nurse Marty, who had come to offer assistance, gave Jonathan a skeptical look. "Yeah, that's because she has a New York Best Seller, idiot. Read a book."

Carlisle, though not one to typically engage in such uncouth comments, appreciated Marty for always speaking her mind. It would have thrilled him to make the remark himself.

He pushed his focus away from the thoughtless nurse and checked the Senator's vitals. "The spike in his heart rate is probably from recognition. From what I gather, he's very close with his daughter. It's common for these things to happen." He gave Jonathan a brief yet pointed look. "It should settle down momentarily. As for his daughter…"

Jonathan couldn't meet Carlisle's eyes. "It won't happen again."

Carlisle decided to leave it at that and returned to the hallway. The two security guards now had Juliet cornered as they questioned her. She didn't appear to be very attentive as her eyes kept focusing back inside her father's room. Her arms were folded defensively over her chest and she was biting her lip.

Before Carlisle could speak, the stouter security guard did, his eyes set in a squint on Juliet's face. "I don't think I've seen you before, and if you are who you _say_ you are, then—"

"Excuse me, gentleman," Carlisle said gently. Both men froze and turned, meeting his eyes. It was not the first time Carlisle had seen Officer Roudwick and Officer Kale, considering he had been here when they had been placed under protection detail, along with the Senator's personal staff, who at present, appeared to be missing. "You may leave now."

Juliet's face was awash with relief. Both of the officers, however, seemed mildly agitated. Still, they departed slowly and not without throwing several dubious glances over their shoulders.

Juliet shook her head, watching them go before turning her attention back to her father. She stood before the great glass sliding door, her arms still crossed, her face in worry. Then those bright blue eyes looked up at Carlisle. "Thank you. Again." She gave him a wry smile. "I'm not really used to needing a savior, but it seems I can't do anything right around here."

"You didn't do anything wrong," he said with a glance at her father. "I should have forewarned you. He should still be under right now, but we always have to bring patients back to an alert consciousness so we know that everything went fine for them. I apologize. This could have been avoided if I'd thought to tell you."

She still smiled, though no longer cynically. "It's fine. It's just great to see him. I mean… I didn't think…" The smile faded, replaced by a forlorn look. "I wasn't sure if I'd see him again or not."

Carlisle studied her face. He watched the way she quickly steeled herself again, how she set her jaw and straightened her back like she was reminding herself that she had to be strong. That was the first thing that came to mind when he first saw her—that she was always trying to be so strong. It was what she had promised her father she would be. Maybe she didn't realize that it seemed to be a natural quality in her.

"You don't need to worry," Carlisle said softly, watching the nurses work in the room. "He'll be just fine."

She nodded. "I know. It's just hard to get used to this—the idea that he won't be sick anymore. But there's so much more to get through… I don't know," she smiled again, apologetically. "I'm sorry. I should leave you to whatever I accidently pulled you away from."

Carlisle gave her a small smile. "Paperwork isn't as thrilling as some might think. Have you slept at all?"

The question seemed almost random to Juliet, but then she realized she hadn't even looked in a mirror this morning. In the glass's reflection she could see the dark half-moons under her eyes. "No," she admitted ruefully. "I stayed here."

His eyebrows rose slightly. "In the waiting room? There are several hotels in the area. I can get a nurse to set a room up for you if you'd like."

"No thanks," she said, though not without appreciation. "I don't need one. I have an apartment in the city. I sent everyone else there for the night so they could get some rest. I just didn't want to leave him until I saw that he was okay."

Carlisle paused, hesitant. Alice's words came back to him. Just as quickly, he shut them out. He wasn't sure if he wanted to mull over that conversation just yet. It was much, much too soon.

Still, he glanced at his watch, and then looked at Juliet, finding her eyes already on his. "It seems you might have another long day ahead of you. May I buy you a coffee?"

Juliet's lips tugged up into a sweet smile. "I'd like that."

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><p>In the atrium below the ICU waiting room, there was a charming little coffee shop, smelling of cinnamon and pastries. The atrium was set up like an internet café of sorts. Juliet had passed it several times on her way into the cardiac center, but had never paid it any mind considering each of those times, she had been in a rush to see her father. The far wall, like the waiting room above, was made of panels of thick glass. Through it, the sun had been shrouded by a set of clouds that had rolled in through the morning. Only grey watery light poured down from the skies outside. The café had lights glowing all around.<p>

She sat across from Carlisle, beside the wall at a small table for two. In her hands, a warm steaming cup of coffee placated the coolness of the air by warming her skin. Ever since she had seen her father only moments before, a rush of something vitalizing filled her body. She felt more energized than she had in years. A smile had remained on her face since.

Glancing up at Carlisle, now, she tried to suppress her smile. He hadn't yet taken a sip of his coffee, for his eyes had been trained on her face since they had sat. Juliet knew she must look silly.

"You must think I'm crazy," she said, looking down at her coffee cup once more timidly.

Carlisle smiled at her. "I think you seem different than you did before your father's surgery. I don't think you're crazy."

Juliet laughed lightly. She simply couldn't contain her smile. But it was easy to look at Carlisle and simply smile. He seemed to truly understand.

"I was a little girl," she explained with more seriousness, "when he was first diagnosed. My parents always tried hiding things from me, but I found a medical bill in the mail one day. It wasn't hard to put two and two together."

"I can't imagine how difficult that would be for you, to be so young." His voice, as she came to realize it must always be, was soothing, gentle.

Pressing her lips together, she nodded. "I had to grow up fast after that. But I try to look at it as a gift. I see things differently than most people my age do. And I can appreciate the value of family better, I guess." Juliet paused, staring at Carlisle for a moment. His skin was smooth and pale, the way smooth stone would be. His features were flawless, his hair like a halo and those amber eyes a beautiful, surreal color. He reminded her of a statue of an angel. "Do you have a family, Carlisle?" The words came out of her mouth quickly, and she made haste to apologize for sounding so intrusive. "Sorry—it's just you look so young to already be a surgeon."

That ever-present gentle smile was still on his lips. His eyes seemed to glitter with amusement. "You aren't the first to notice that. I do have a family. My nieces and nephews actually attend the university college."

Juliet's eyebrows rose. Her expression was pensive as she racked her memory. "I might have seen them around. I take classes here while I write."

"Ah, yes," Carlisle said. "You're a writer. You're quite young for such a profession, as well."

Juliet smirked and repeated his answer. "You aren't the first to notice that."

"I also don't make national news," he commented with a smile. "So I believe it."

Her laugh was silvery and sweet, just like her smile. It was so different than the serious and pained expression she had worn before. "Unfortunately, that's true."

His head tilted the slightest. "And that's a bad thing?"

"When you've lived around someone prominent your whole life," she went on to explain, curling her fingers around the warm cup of her coffee, "you tend to have an extreme disliking for press. In my case, I positively resent it."

His eyes were filled with amusement again. "I think you picked the wrong profession, then."

Juliet returned the look. "If there's one thing I've learned about life, you have to take the good with the bad. So it's worth it."

Carlisle stared at her. He hadn't realized it until then, but his eyes weren't the only ones glued to this lovely creature's face. Those passing in and out of the atrium glanced furtively at her, and those sitting nearest them stared outright. Juliet sipped her coffee, completely oblivious to the intrigued eyes.

She was definitely one of a kind.

His phone buzzed. He didn't have to be psychic to know who it was: the psychic, herself. It was a text message. A cursory glance revealed her message: _When can I meet her_? Carlisle wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or if this somewhat agitated him. Then he reflected on the conversation Alice had come to have with him earlier, just after the Senator's surgery. His eyes refocused on Juliet.

When she looked back up and smiled at him, Carlisle felt a little guilty. She had no clue that she was the new topic of debate in the Cullen household.

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><p><strong>It's been a scandalous amount of time since I returned to this, so I'm sorry for the wait! Please review and tell me what's upif you're reading! (:**


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